Life Insurance
by lalalei
Summary: A good Game Master always has a backup plan in case things go off the rails. Yami Bakura is no different. Anime!Memory World AU.


The funny thing about games is that they're never _quite_ over when you think they are.

Oh, I know you'd _like_ to think so, wouldn't you? The brave, heroic Pharaoh and his group of trusted companions finally broke through the darkness, forever restoring peace to the land!

And that's where you'd be wrong. You don't risk _everything_ on one card, one game. Pegasus did, Marik did, and look where that got them. I'm not as foolish as those others. Your friends would meddle; they always would, and then they'd somehow pull off a last-minute rescue and save the day.

But here's what they _didn't_ know. Here's what _you_ don't know.

One of your foes was, in fact, your friend.

Really, I'm surprised you didn't figure it out when I _released_ him briefly—the confusion on his face as he knelt before the darkness, the horrified realization that he was turning to sand, the agonized cries for help— _none_ of that rang a bell?

Shall we do a repeat, then? The Thief King's final moments, in stereo!

"Where am I? Who are you? Tell me! My _hands_ –What's _happening_ to me!? Someone _help_ me!"

Nothing? You're more foolish than I thought. Let me remind you. You remember Battle City, don't you, and Slifer bearing down on my unfortunate host?

"Where am I-My _arm_! …What's going on? I'm not feeling at _all_ well! Yugi, _please_! Help me!"

Sound familiar? _Must_ I spell it out? (And stop _squirming_ , you fool, you'll just make the Earl of Demise's sword dull!)

Let's just say the Thief King wasn't quite himself that day, or _any_ day. Instead, my _precious_ host took his place. Not by choice, of course, but then I'm rather fond of getting my way. I simply planted his soul into the Thief's figurine, and my control did the rest.

The rest was _me_ , there's no denying that, but that brief moment before he scattered to dust? That was your friend Ryou Bakura.

(Really, now, that look of surprise doesn't suit you at _all_. Man up and admit you've _lost_.)

Everything after that moment—the Thief King's sacrifice and my merging with Zorc the game piece—was all part of the plan. Not the _immediate_ plan, which was the complete and total destruction of your world, but even the best-laid plans can fall apart in an instant.

No, this plan was much simpler. Think of it as life insurance, if you will. I get what I wanted back in Duelist Kingdom—a body without a mind of its own, the perfect vessel of darkness. What was really hilarious was when you all thought I'd returned at first, seeing me stumble about in the spitting image of my host—little did you know you were _right_. But a quick fainting spell and a desire for food immediately displaced all concerns.

And, thus convinced of my integrity, such _wonderful_ information you shared! Had I known it'd be _that_ easy, perhaps I'd have posed as Ryou more often!

You all told me exactly how you stopped Zorc and what happened after. It was hard to keep from laughing as you relayed Horakhty saying there was _no more darkness_ —she only needed to look outside the box to know _that_ was a pack of lies, but then what game piece _could_ see the world beyond the game? Only the Game Masters have that power!

You all gave me a wonderful meal, first-class, no doubt, but didn't bother checking in on me once I was done.

And you even let me tag along to the Ceremonial Duel.

True, I'd given up my Ring. That was unavoidable for the ceremony to take place.

But you gave up your _Pharaoh_ , didn't you? You lost your friend. You grieved and smiled and moved on with your lives, content that at least the darkness had been silenced forever. As you can see, it hasn't. Darkness lurks just underneath the light.

And do you know the _best_ part? Shall I twist the knife further in? (Now, Earl of Demise, I didn't mean that literally-but go right ahead.)

I know where the Items were buried.

I _know_.

It wouldn't take _that_ long to dig them up, not if you were persistent enough. This body would only grow stronger for it. (And you're quickly growing weaker. I _told_ you to stop squirming, you're just hastening your demise.)

Ah, what's that? You're saying I can't exist without my host?

Well, you'd be right, for once. I haven't _disposed_ of him, despite what the others might have told you—I simply removed his piece from play to summon the Dark One.

He's sitting on this shelf as a souvenir right now.

See, you can even see his face the way you're lying on the floor.

He looks like he's crying, the poor boy.

I wonder what he'd tell you if he could?


End file.
